


Would You Even Turn To Say

by GhostPatrol



Category: Smosh, Smosh Games
Genre: Angst, Break Up, I hate reading stuff like this but apparently I can write it fine so here ya go, I was feeling emo okay dont @ me, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-13 05:44:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16011494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostPatrol/pseuds/GhostPatrol
Summary: I don't love you,Like I loved youYesterdayTags are pretty self-explanatory. Apologies in advance.





	Would You Even Turn To Say

_Well, when you go_

_Don't ever think I'll make you try to stay_

_And maybe when you get back_

_I'll be off to find another way_  
  
"I just don't know what you want from me anymore!" 

Shayne groaned, rubbing his face with both hands. "Neither do I." 

"What am I supposed to do about it, then?" Damien shook his head and laughed humorlessly, throat strained from an evening of trauma.

The sounds of passing cars leaked dully into the motel room, through thin walls covered in stained floral wallpaper. The sickly yellow aura it spread throughout the room made it feel infected. Cold artificial light spilled inside through the window, cast from a flickering street lamp beyond the glass. It blinked once, twice, then went steady for a minute. It would last just that, for a minute, before sputtering again. The routine was a familiar one- not just for the lamp. Damien was stood in front of that window; His face was red, dark circles were pronounced clearly under his eyes, and his form was haloed in the unnatural, rain-blurred glow. 

"I. Don't. Know." Shayne repeated to him. He felt as tired as Damien looked, and assumed his own countenance was something similar. 

"You never fucking know!" Damien blew up suddenly, "You never try to work these things out!" 

"Oh, don't give me that shit!" Shayne spat, "Like you put in any effort." 

Damien stared at Shayne incredulously. It was like a pot of water finally boiling over, every frustration and awful thought spilling over the sides at once. 

"Are you serious? I'm the _only_ one putting in effort!" Damien swallowed, waiting a couple seconds. Then, quieter, "Who was it that forgot our anniversary last month?" 

Shayne rolled his eyes and groaned, "Don't start with that. It was one time!" 

"Oh, and the other night at the bar- that was just another 'One time', right?" Damien hissed. Shayne glared back. Memories of a different argument, a different room, the same tears being choked back and the same razor-sharp edges clinging to the words they could only find when they were drunk or pissed or both. When he had thought about it before it had made his chest tighten with guilt, but now, it only seemed to stoke some violent fire in the back of his skull.

"I thought we were over that." He said, "I was drunk!" 

"Obviously you must have been," Damien shot back, "Since you didn't hear me walk in." 

Shayne debated some other choice of words, some insult or remark, but god, he was  _tired_. 

"So are you just going to keep pulling receipts on me all night?" He sighed, instead. Damien's face fell, too- in exhaustion and frustration, the weight of the night resting heavy on his bones. He sat on the edge of the bed and put his head in his hands. 

"I don't know, are you even going to listen to me?" His voice was muffled in his palms, "Or would you rather be drunk and making out with Mr. Undercut again?"

Shayne narrowed his eyes. "At least he knows how to do it right."

Damien looked up, clearly shocked and wounded by the unexpected assault. "Wh- Seriously?!"

"Well if you're taking tonight to go off about all of my fuck-ups," Shayne's voice dripped with venom, "I figured I'd have a go, too!"

Damien sputtered. Shayne rolled his eyes, and shoved himself to his feet. "Shayne-" He ignored the other man's protest, striding furiously to the door. "Shayne." He grabbed his bag and put his hand on the doorknob. "Shayne!"

He finally heeded the other man's demand, turning to look back. Damien's stare was grave.

"Shayne, don't you dare walk out that door." His voice was low, shaky. Tears glistened against the wilting light in the room, as they gathered on his waterline. “If you walk out now, we’re done.”

Shayne stared back. The flickering streetlamp light surrounded him, now. It blinked once, twice.

_Oh, when you go,_

_Would you have the guts to say,_

_“I don’t love you, like I loved you yesterday”?_

With a sudden burst, it went out.

Shayne didn’t close the door behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> Well,,, I warned ya  
> Let me know what you thought! Comments are GREATLY appreciated!!


End file.
